Roller coaster
Monday night: not good. Not good at all. My brain went into overload mode and pretty much just entirely shut down. I essentially wasted 30 minutes of the night staring at my laptop screen and crying, which makes it hard to study for mid-terms or write case analyses or post to the discussion boards, whathaveyou. I had a case of the Mean Reds, as Audrey Hepburn's Holly Golightly said in Breakfast at Tiffany's.
Tuesday didn't start off much better. I did get a decent night's sleep thanks to my friend Mr. Sleep Aid Pill and lots of affection from my adorable husband, but the newly-calm nerves frayed once again when I received my latest marketing article analysis grade of 73% with some feedback that I wrote "to general." It bothers me when my writing is being graded by someone who can't distinguish when to use "to" or "too," but she's the prof and I'm the student so I'm thinking it would probably not be wise to give her feedback on that. What kept me from completely and totally hating her (versus the low-grade bitter disgust I'm currently harboring) was that she offered the chance to rewrite the paper and possibly earn a better grade. Okay, I can do that. I sorta mailed it in the first time and she called me on it, so that's my fault and I'll rewrite.
Which I did last night, after taking my Organizational Behavior mid-term that involved 46 questions in a 60-minute timed exam. Let me just say that it's impossible to memorize detailed information from 9 friggin' chapters to recall in literally a moment's notice.
Between the exam and the paper and everything else, last night had the potential of taking the Mean Reds and turning them into a full blown "have me committed right now" case.
After Zozer went down (complete with more discussion about the potty, on the potty and near the potty), we spent about 45 minutes reviewing both the text and the 20-page study guide we created for the mid-term, then launched in. Went as fast as we could and tried to keep the rising panic at bay for at least 60 minutes. The exam was multiple guess so it was graded immediately. 44/46, or 95.65%. Yeah. I almost cried in relief. Turns out I'm a really good guesser.
Then, I retrieved the phone and turned the ringer back on and checked e-mail. And there it was.
Confirmation from Kim Weston's wife, Gina, that we could stay at Bodie House (part of Edward Weston's estate, who is only the most fabulous photographer ever and whose work I adore and whose grandson, Kim, is also an awesome photographer who offers workshops that I think I'm going to give myself as a reward for completing the hell that is grad school). I've wanted to stay at Bodie House for years, ever since I learned that the Weston family welcomes guests and thought that was one of the coolest things ever. When I started planning our California trip last fall, I screwed up my courage and sent Gina an e-mail, introducing myself and asking if it were possible to stay at Bodie House one night. She wrote back and said that she did not have the '09 workshop schedule up yet and to check back in a few months.
You bet your bippy that I checked the Weston site every day since then, waiting for the schedule to be posted. It went live in January and I e-mailed Gina again. Then, two weeks later, again. I hope she doesn't think I'm stalking her...I just wanted to create every opportunity to meet her and Kim, and stay where Edward Weston once lived.
When I got the e-mail last night, that's when I lost it. I cried for the second night in a row, but this time the tears were good tears.
Fortified from the exam results and the Bodie House news, I sat down and rewrote the Marketing paper. The prof happened to be on-line when I e-mailed it to her, and she read it immediately and changed my grade on the spot: 15/15. This, of course, happened around midnight. Because that's when most student-teacher interaction should take place, don't you think?
By this point I was utterly exhausted and emotionally spent, and dropped in to bed near 1, where I laid there and thought about all the other stuff we have to do until about 2. 6 a.m. comes way too early (to early?) when you don't fall asleep until 2.
Potty News: M and I talked last night, and then I talked with Zozer's teachers this morning, and general consensus is that all the potty efforts are not getting any of us anywhere. Zoe is now holding everything in and it's affecting her personality (well, yeah, who wouldn't be uptight doing that?). She's miserable, we're miserable, and there is no indication she's ready. Well, okay, there are about 500 indications she's ready (she can hold for several hours, she can pull her pants and underpants down and up on her own, she can sit on the potty, flush and wash her hands, etc.), except for the one most important factor: she's just not willing to do it. I firmly believe that it'll be like when she walked and talked...no matter what we did, she did it at her own time, on her own terms. And when she did it, she was perfect at it. I told M she's likely to just disappear from playing one day and then come out saying, "I went on the potty." And that will be it. In the meantime, let's not stress us all out and have Zozer develop a bladder infection because she's holding it for too long.
So it's back to diapers and pull-ups for the Z family. Sigh.
Tuesday didn't start off much better. I did get a decent night's sleep thanks to my friend Mr. Sleep Aid Pill and lots of affection from my adorable husband, but the newly-calm nerves frayed once again when I received my latest marketing article analysis grade of 73% with some feedback that I wrote "to general." It bothers me when my writing is being graded by someone who can't distinguish when to use "to" or "too," but she's the prof and I'm the student so I'm thinking it would probably not be wise to give her feedback on that. What kept me from completely and totally hating her (versus the low-grade bitter disgust I'm currently harboring) was that she offered the chance to rewrite the paper and possibly earn a better grade. Okay, I can do that. I sorta mailed it in the first time and she called me on it, so that's my fault and I'll rewrite.
Which I did last night, after taking my Organizational Behavior mid-term that involved 46 questions in a 60-minute timed exam. Let me just say that it's impossible to memorize detailed information from 9 friggin' chapters to recall in literally a moment's notice.
Between the exam and the paper and everything else, last night had the potential of taking the Mean Reds and turning them into a full blown "have me committed right now" case.
After Zozer went down (complete with more discussion about the potty, on the potty and near the potty), we spent about 45 minutes reviewing both the text and the 20-page study guide we created for the mid-term, then launched in. Went as fast as we could and tried to keep the rising panic at bay for at least 60 minutes. The exam was multiple guess so it was graded immediately. 44/46, or 95.65%. Yeah. I almost cried in relief. Turns out I'm a really good guesser.
Then, I retrieved the phone and turned the ringer back on and checked e-mail. And there it was.
Confirmation from Kim Weston's wife, Gina, that we could stay at Bodie House (part of Edward Weston's estate, who is only the most fabulous photographer ever and whose work I adore and whose grandson, Kim, is also an awesome photographer who offers workshops that I think I'm going to give myself as a reward for completing the hell that is grad school). I've wanted to stay at Bodie House for years, ever since I learned that the Weston family welcomes guests and thought that was one of the coolest things ever. When I started planning our California trip last fall, I screwed up my courage and sent Gina an e-mail, introducing myself and asking if it were possible to stay at Bodie House one night. She wrote back and said that she did not have the '09 workshop schedule up yet and to check back in a few months.
You bet your bippy that I checked the Weston site every day since then, waiting for the schedule to be posted. It went live in January and I e-mailed Gina again. Then, two weeks later, again. I hope she doesn't think I'm stalking her...I just wanted to create every opportunity to meet her and Kim, and stay where Edward Weston once lived.
When I got the e-mail last night, that's when I lost it. I cried for the second night in a row, but this time the tears were good tears.
Fortified from the exam results and the Bodie House news, I sat down and rewrote the Marketing paper. The prof happened to be on-line when I e-mailed it to her, and she read it immediately and changed my grade on the spot: 15/15. This, of course, happened around midnight. Because that's when most student-teacher interaction should take place, don't you think?
By this point I was utterly exhausted and emotionally spent, and dropped in to bed near 1, where I laid there and thought about all the other stuff we have to do until about 2. 6 a.m. comes way too early (to early?) when you don't fall asleep until 2.
Potty News: M and I talked last night, and then I talked with Zozer's teachers this morning, and general consensus is that all the potty efforts are not getting any of us anywhere. Zoe is now holding everything in and it's affecting her personality (well, yeah, who wouldn't be uptight doing that?). She's miserable, we're miserable, and there is no indication she's ready. Well, okay, there are about 500 indications she's ready (she can hold for several hours, she can pull her pants and underpants down and up on her own, she can sit on the potty, flush and wash her hands, etc.), except for the one most important factor: she's just not willing to do it. I firmly believe that it'll be like when she walked and talked...no matter what we did, she did it at her own time, on her own terms. And when she did it, she was perfect at it. I told M she's likely to just disappear from playing one day and then come out saying, "I went on the potty." And that will be it. In the meantime, let's not stress us all out and have Zozer develop a bladder infection because she's holding it for too long.
So it's back to diapers and pull-ups for the Z family. Sigh.
posted by Amy at 8:15 AM
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